


Target

by thepilot



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bassian, Blow Jobs, Everyone Lives Except K2-SO, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, POV Bodhi Rook, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Porn with a lot of Plot, Post-Battle of Scarif, Post-War, Self-Esteem Issues, sniperpilot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-28 22:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11427150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepilot/pseuds/thepilot
Summary: Updated with chapters 7 and 8. Chapters 2, 4 and 8 are explicit. Some of the chapters have been updated/edited as well. I still plan to write more for this story, but it has somewhat of a resolution right now."What?” a voice echoed from inside the shower room. Bodhi froze entirely, the water rushing over him. No, no, no! Why was he there? How long had he been there? Did he know? Had he heard? Yes, he heard! He answered! Leave, just leave and throw on your clothes and go back to your room.





	1. Or Stay

**Author's Note:**

> There is no S & M, kink, etc. This is post-battle of Scarif: nothing cute. Jyn, Chirrut and Baze are all a part of the story, but their individual relationships are not discussed. This is raw, and the Rebels are still fighting the Empire. This is the first version of the story, told from Bodhi's perspective. His perspective, the way he views himself and the way he thinks others view him, is in stark contrast to Cassian's. Following the concept that Bodhi has lost his arm, and Cassian has also sustained substantial injuries. Please note that there is a bit of gore/violence, and the beginning chapter does mention typical hospital procedures, i.e. stints.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi wakes up in the med bay, still slightly sedated from medication and from the battle. He finds Cassian in the bed beside his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're on Yavin IV. Just...it's fine. Go with it.

Everyone visited several times a day. Or was it everyone? He tried to count, but he was only ever awake for a few minutes at a time. Was it every day? No, it had to be. Today he had seen at least three sets of eyes. Yesterday? How much dipill had the med droid just used? No, that was the evenings, he had just gotten his pain killer. His heavy eyelids struggled against the weight of sleep as he shifted in his sheets. Always tucked in! Why were the sheets always tucked in around him? He shifted his weight, summoning all the strength he could to loosen them. Something impaired his progress on the right. No, he was trapped. Always trapped. He wasn’t strong enough or alert enough to make any progress. Letting out a strained sigh, he rolled his head to the right.

What Bodhi didn’t realize, was that he had been like this for weeks: the same neurotic routine playing out several times a day. Everyone did visit, or at least, everyone that could. He really didn’t know which eyes he was looking at, couldn’t make out the faces. The only face he hadn’t seen, was that which belonged to the figure in the bed beside his. He could make out a dark head of hair, and not much else. This person also got visitors, sometimes the same as him, sometimes different.  
He rolled his head again. Why couldn’t he see properly? And why couldn’t he ever hear the people talking to them? He knew they were talking, could sense that their mouths were moving. But all he was able to hear was muffled talk.

Scarif. That was it. Scarif. The bomb, the rescue. Or was he dead? Was this some sort of death reserved for cowards and fools, tortured for eternity by not being able to see or hear clearly? He rolled his head to the center, staring up at the light. Not the light, too bright. He squinted his eyes. Goggles! Not entirely helpful, but they’d at least dim the light. Did he want to dim the light? It was all he could actually see right now. He moved his right arm: he’d pull his goggles down over his eyes. No, that wasn’t right: he couldn’t free his arm from the weight of the tight sheets. Or was it because he was too weak? But why? He pulled his left arm free as if it was moving through water. No, not entirely free: it was only now that he realized that his hand was pierced with a tube that allowed a clear liquid to enter his body. They hadn’t put the stint in right: as he moved his arm he felt a dull throbbing at the entry puncture. With delicacy and much effort, he raised his arm up to his forehead to pull his goggles down. Not there. Of course not. He was in the med bay. Why would he still have his goggles on?

He sighed again, resting his left arm over his eyes: it was too much effort to bring his arm back down. Why was he awake still? He never stayed awake longer than a few minutes. Was there something wrong with his meds? Had they changed them? Why would they change them? He lay in this state for a time, now entirely focused on the dull pain of the stint, but a muffled chatter interrupted his thoughts. He pushed his arm above his forehead to figure out the source of the garbled chatter. He briefly scanned the hazy room until they saw the source of the noise. A dark figure, with pale skin, walking beside a med droid. Much to his surprise, the dark figure leaned over his bed, coming face to face.  
Jyn! It had to be. He could discern no facial hair, and he could make out the soft brown eyes. The height was right, too. Yes, this was Jyn. Bodhi felt obligated to move his arm, make himself more presentable: try to say something. His tongue was limp. Jyn lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She spoke, but he couldn’t hear what she said, nor could he read her lips. He felt her face get closer, felt her brush her lips on his cheek, and slowly step back while the med droids got closer.

It had to be time for more pain killers. His dipill. No, this was morning. Morning? His hand jolted as the med droid lowered his arm and removed the first tube in his hand and replaced it with a different one, clicking it in place. He couldn’t see Jyn anymore, and the room seemed to slowly dissolve into nothingness.  
The next time Bodhi awoke, his vision was clearer: his eyelids flickered as he was able to take in the room better. Was he stronger? He certainly felt like he could move easier. He rolled his head to the right, beginning his routine, the exception being that he could now see clearer. He scanned the figure in the bed beside his. Brown hair? Jyn? No, he had seen Jyn. Not long hair, not Baze. Chirrut? Too light. Cassian? It had to be.

In an instant, his mind raced back to Scarif, his visions of the beach just as blurred as his vision and his hearing. When had that happened? Yesterday? No, no that had to be some time ago. He wanted to ask. He worked his mouth and realized how sticky his tongue felt, and how suddenly the strongest muscle in his body was now the weakest. Swallowing, he tried again. No use. Water? Maybe if he had water this would all be much easier. Trapped. Again! He wiggled his right arm, realizing it was finally moving. He hadn’t known that arm to obey his commands once, at least not since he had awoken in the med bay.

Wiggling his arm from the sheets, he easily lifted it up to search for the call button that lay beside him. He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline and an odd sense of pride. He hadn’t needed to use the call button until now, had fallen asleep just minutes after waking up. But now he could actually use it, and ask for something! He shifted his gaze to the button, to his arm and to his fingers as they found the button. No, no that wasn’t right. Not his arm. It was Kay’s. Why was he looking at Kay’s arm? But Kay’s arm led up beyond where his elbow should be to his bicep. This was clearly his, and Kay was gone. Bodhi held his right arm in front of his face. He had to be asleep. That was it! He was having a weird dream. He watched as each mechanical finger obeyed his thoughts, opening and closing as if they were his own. He grinned: this was an interesting dream. He pulled his left arm free and ran his fingers along the metal. Why did his mechanical arm feel that? Could you feel things in dreams?

His breathing intensified: this wasn’t a dream. Or was it a trick of Bor Gullet? When had Scarif happened? He started trying to piece together his thoughts. No, they were in order. He hadn’t misplaced his thoughts since Jedha. The arm. He went back to examining his right arm. His left fingers continued to trace up and down. The bomb. He had run with the grenade from the ship, throwing it as soon as his tired feet hit the sand, but it wasn’t fast enough. He had lost most of his arm in the attempt, tendons and charred muscles keeping it painfully in place as it dangled limply at his side as he ran back to the ship, preparing for flight. He was oddly at ease with this transformation, realizing he had gotten off better than most…

His thoughts traced in circles until he remembered why he had discovered his arm in the first place. Cassian! This had all started when he had realized it was Cassian in the bed beside his, and wanted to call out to him, ask him how long they had been there. His left arm absently continued its journey of his right arm as he wondered why Cassian was still there, and why he had never seen him moving.

Jyn must’ve come to visit him before they replaced his arm. He smiled. It was good to finally have friends. He looked over at Cassian again as he stopped his absent stroking. The Captain had barely been alive when Bodhi had found him in Jyn’s arms, seemingly awaiting imminent death or rescue. But Bodhi had lost so much blood from his arm, and had suffered enough temporary hearing damage from the grenade that he had never really understood what had happened to Cassian. He had never needed to worry about Chirrut and Baze: Baze, as one would have imagined, had made his way to the shuttle on the beach, limping along as he carried Chirrut in his arms.

He looked at Cassian again, and tried to make his tongue work. The call button! His mechanical arm found the button, and pushed down on it, expecting there to be a loud beep or siren, but nothing. He couldn’t hear that well: maybe there was. Only minutes passed before a med droid was at his side, and he motioned to his mouth. To his surprise, the med droid seemed to understand what he had communicated, and produced a small cup for him. He expected the med droid to hold it up to his lips as it had done so many times before with some of his medications, but it did not. Hesitatingly, he propped himself up, rocking from side to side with the guidance of his arms until he was sitting. Taking the glass from the droid with his left hand, he slowly placed the glass to his cracked lips, feeling the smooth liquid roll over his tongue, seemingly waking it up. The first few sips were experimental, and he soon began gulping the water down. He held out the empty glass, indicating he wanted more. The med droid obliged, and returned to him with another glass. Emptying this one just as quickly, he found his tongue moved freer in his mouth.

“Thank you,” he managed to say with a voice that sounded strange and unfamiliar. Bodhi couldn’t really hear himself say these words, his ears still hearing muffled sounds. Was he too loud? He had no volume control. Maybe he hadn’t spoken at all. The med droid zoomed away with his empty glass, leaving Bodhi to his thoughts once more. No, not just his thoughts. Cassian was still there. And he still didn’t know when Scarif had happened. Or what the outcome of Scarif had been. And he still didn’t know what had happened to Cassian…

“Captain Andor?” he attempted, guessing at his volume and shifting his weight to rest on his right elbow. No response.

“Captain?” Bodhi tried one last time. No response. He plopped down on his side, starring at the back of Cassian’s head, absentmindedly opening and closing his new right hand. Was he supposed to call Cassian “Captain?” No one called Jyn “Seargent,” even though she had been promoted to the rank just before they left for Scarif. Had Bodhi called Cassian by his first name before? On Scarif, then, when he thought they were all going to die. Bodhi hadn’t been promoted, he was still Ensign Rook. The Empire would never allow for first names. No, he had no rank now: maybe he was really just the pilot.

After a time, Bodhi gave up willing the back of Cassian’s head to move. He didn’t want to disturb him. Rolling over to his other side, he began staring at his left hand, hoping that if he couldn’t wake up Cassian, he could at least will away the pain from the stint. Maybe Cassian had heard him, and maybe that’s why we always lay facing away from him: Bodhi was just an annoyance.

He starred at his stint for what seemed like hours, and it seemed like sleep, for once, was not taking over. Each passing minute caused him to dwell on the same thoughts he kept playing over and over again in his mind. When the med bay door slid open, he squinted to watch a figure authoritatively stride into the room. If he hadn’t figured out Cassian was in the bed beside him, he would have taken this figure to be him. It was Jyn, confident and collected, and she crouched down beside the bed, taking Bodhi’s mechanical hand in hers without warning. Bodhi struggled to see her face, but he struggled even more to hear her words. Something about the surgery going well, he guessed? Or at least he wanted to tell himself that.

“Jyn,” he managed. Why was it so dry in the med bay? He needed another glass of water. “Jyn, I-I can’t really hear you that-that well.” She crouched beside him, and positioned herself closer to his face, putting her mouth right next to his ear so that he felt her warm breath on him.  
“I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. It’s just temporary, some from the blast of the grenade, some from your medication. A lot from your medication. Now that you have your new arm, they’re going to start letting up on some of your meds.”

“Oh. That’s good.” For once he couldn’t think of anything to say, and his eyes wandered away from her gaze. What was there to say? Should he ask her about Chirrut? About Baze? What about the whole plan? Had they even managed to get the Death Star Plans to the Rebellion? She didn’t read his mind. She just kept sitting there, staring at him. Was she smiling? Why wasn’t she talking? She still had his hand in hers. This was awkward. What was he supposed to do?

“Jyn,” he started, hoping she would finish the sentence he didn’t even have composed. “Jyn…what about Cassian?” he ended up asking.

She shifted her gaze over to his bed, then back to Bodhi. “When we were getting the plans, he took a shot to the side, and fell several feet, fracturing his pelvis. Somehow he managed to crawl his way to the elevator and make it up the tower,” he could tell she was now beaming with pride, “and I helped him get to the beach when he collapsed in my arms. He’s gone through several surgeries. Apparently Cassian has a tendency to lie about the condition he’s in, and he had many more injuries than we were even aware of.” Bodhi’s eyes grew wide but she immediately followed with: “He was instructed not to move. And since this is the Captain Cassian Andor, Hero of the Rebellion we’re talking about, he’s now restrained.”

How had Bodhi never realized he was being restrained? He couldn’t see that good, that was why. He shifted himself over to look at Cassian. He could make the restraints out better now. Bodhi was suddenly glad he was not the one being restrained: he’d have gone into a panic attack feeling like it was Bor Gullet all over again…Bor Gullet…no, he didn’t want to think about that monster again. Or that cage...

“But I can still hear you,” a loud voice grumbled. Bodhi snapped back to the moment, and smiled. Jyn let go of Bodhi’s hand and stood up, gliding smoothly over to Cassian. She spoke loudly, obviously wanting Bodhi to hear.

“Too bad. I guess that means we can’t talk about you,” Jyn said with a smirk, as she took up a similar position to the one she had had with Bodhi, crouching beside his bed; unlike Bodhi, she was running her hands through his hair. That didn’t make sense. Bodhi had called out to Cassian and received no response, but now he was talking to Jyn. He was an annoyance. Restraints or not, Cassian had not wanted to talk to him. A Captain in the Empire certainly wouldn’t. That he had even been as friendly with Bodhi at all had been a wonder. The whole Rebellion was a wonder…

“How are you feeling?” Jyn asked Cassian, still running her hands through his hair.

“Trapped. I’m trying to figure out the best maneuver to get out of this bed,” he grumbled again loudly, jerking his body a little.

“Just a couple more days!” Jyn said cheerfully, pulling away her hand and looking at Bodhi, and he felt as if he had been suddenly caught watching something he was not supposed to have seen. She was still smiling. Why did she keep smiling? He had hardly known her to smile. He also hardly knew her. Maybe she did like to smile. He liked her smile: it was better than her frown. “You too, Bodhi. You should both be discharged around the same time.”

“Really?” Bodhi asked, suddenly hopeful. Why hopeful? What was waiting for him after this? Nothing. He had done his part, he had served his purpose.

“If Cassian can find himself another KX model, we should all be back to normal soon. Well…” she drifted off, glancing at Bodhi’s arm and then down at Cassian. Bodhi felt his cheeks suddenly burst with embarrassment. He was torn between quickly covering his arm, and being frozen. He settled on being frozen. Jyn settled herself down beside Cassian again, taking his hand.

“Get some sleep, and later I’ll have dinner with you both,” she said, giving Cassian a kiss on the forehead. She stood up, and walked around the bed to face Bodhi. To his surprise, she repeated the action, kissing his forehead as well. She patted his cheek gently, then left the room, leaving a ringing silence.

So Cassian had heard everything? Had he been awake? What if Bodhi had been talking in his sleep? He was sure he must do that. He had been flying shuttles for the Empire so long, he was sure he must do that. Did Cassian know about everything that had happened to Bodhi? Did he care? It didn’t matter. Bodhi was useless now. At least he had gotten a job as a cargo pilot: at least picking up and delivering things was useful. Would he be useful to anyone anymore? Surely Cassian would go back to doing things for the Rebellion. And Jyn. What were Chirrut and Baze going to do? More than Bodhi could do. He was just the pilot now. The former pilot. Without a ship. Would they let him take the battered and charred Imperial shuttle around Yavin? No, probably not.

Bodhi sighed, beginning anew the twiddling of his new fingers, this time exploring feeling. He felt a tube. What was the tube connected to? He sat up as best he could, tracing the tube under his sheets. A catheter. That made sense. How degrading. He was now part machine, former Imperial Cargo Pilot with no title, laying on a boring bed in a med bay with a catheter. People had seen him like this. Jyn had seen him like this. He blushed, feeling inward panic spread. He wished he could fall asleep, but now his brain was working over-time, replaying every moment he could recall that he had spent in the med bay. How long had he been there? He still didn’t know.

“Captain Andor?” he should really be using his real title. Still no response. He turned so he was really facing Cassian this time. “Captain Andor?” he said, louder this time. He watched Cassian’s back, and knew from his quickened breathing that he was not asleep. No one breathed that fast when they were asleep.

“Alright, Bodhi, now it really is getting annoying,” Cassian sighed, shifting his towards Bodhi’s as best he could. How had he known Bodhi had been thinking he was annoying? Bodhi’s stomach lurched. He was annoying! He knew it! He had been annoying Bodhi and that’s why-

“You know I won’t respond to you calling me that.”

A puzzled look crept over Bodhi’s face. “Your-your first name? But you’re…I mean…I may have said it before but…now we’re back at _your_ base, and you should be addressed properly. It’s what we would’ve…what they trained us…” his voice faded out.

“Look, there are few things people can go through together without ending up on a first name basis, and bringing down the Empire’s super weapon without dying is one of them.”

Was that funny? Bodhi wasn’t sure. Wait, bringing down the Empire? Did that mean?

“So…so the Death Star? The Death Star is…they-we-they destroyed it? When? How long ago? Was I asleep? They-they could’ve gotten me up. I would’ve liked to have known…” Bodhi felt dejected. They’d destroyed the most feared weapon in the galaxy, and no one had said a word.

“Weeks ago. Actually,” Cassian paused momentarily, ignoring Bodhi’s last question, “it was only a few days after you rescued us from Scarif. A Jedi, Jyn told me, took it down. Galen Erso was right: it only took one shot."

Bodhi grinned. It was gone. The vile weapon he had been unknowingly and unwilling been transporting supplies to help build, was gone. He watched his right fingers open and close for a time.

“Cap-Cassian? What…you know…what uh…what do we-me-I…what do I do now?” Why did he ask that? Why would Cassian know? Was Cassian his commanding officer? He guessed that was right. He wanted someone to tell him what he was supposed to do now, wanted to give him hope…

“I’m going back to being a spy for the Rebellion,” Cassian said, almost proudly. “But you,” Cassian snorted a laugh, “you’re the hero, Bodhi. I don’t think anyone cares what the hell you do. Run away to another planet and live a happy life. The Alliance would gladly give you anything and send you on your way.” Silence. So he really didn’t serve a purpose any more. Maybe he should just run away. Wars weren’t his thing, he had discovered. In the heat of the moment, sure, but now…

“Or stay.”

The words came as such a shock to Bodhi that he was paralyzed. His cheeks went red. Really? They wanted him to stay? Why? What else could he do? He started running through every job he knew to exist for the Alliance, every job he thought he could do. Maybe he could run cargo ships for them! They had to need transport. Yes, he would be a Cargo Pilot for the Alliance. For the Rebellion.

“Actually,” Cassian continued, “until I can find another KX unit, I need a co-well, I need a pilot.”

“Really? But you’d really want me? I mean…I don’t know your ships. Just the U-Wing we took to Eadu. I could learn! But it would take me some time to learn. When are we leaving? Did you already get an assignment? I could start learning as soon as I’m-we’re discharged. Who would teach me? Where would we-“

“Bodhi. Listen. One thing at a time,” Cassian grumbled. “We’re still strapped to beds. Well, I’m strapped. We’re still in the med bay. We’ll talk about it when we’re discharged.”

“Oh-okay,” Bodhi finished. A real pilot? Not just a Cargo Pilot? Bodhi’s heart was pounding so fast, he was sure it was audible to Cassian. They actually wanted him? Cassian was serious? What sorts of missions did Cassian really go on? What about the others? What about-

“And Jyn?” Bodhi asked, wondering if she’d be on these missions as well. Jyn. The Death Star! That’s why she was always smiling! It was destroyed, and her father had put the flaw in it like he had said. And Bodhi had brought the message. Brought the message to Saw. No, it had been taken from his boot when they had searched him for weapons before bringing him to Saw. Before Bor Gullet...Bodhi’s eyes wandered to Cassian’s restraints, remembering the feeling of being restrained with chains and-  
“She wants to stay here, working strategies. Mon Mothma agrees that it would be the best place for her. She’s…well, you know Jyn. She’s incredibly skilled when it comes to planning.” What was a Mon Mothma? Was that a name he should know? But there was no denying Jyn’s new place: she’d calculated the entire trip to Scarif to retrieve the Death Star Plans, after all.

“Chirrut and Baze? Are they staying here?” Bodhi asked. Those two were still a mystery to him...

“They haven’t made a decision yet. With Jedha gone, they aren’t sure which path to take.”

“Oh,” Bodhi said, without more words to follow. Jedha had been his home, too. He wondered how many lives had been lost there: how many neighbors? Friends? Even…

“I suggested they try and find more Jedi. Not all of them were murdered, and we could use more, if they're willing...”

“I’d like to meet one! Growing up on Jedha, we always heard about…well I mean, with the temple and all, we always imagined…we used to play at being Jedi when we were little, pretending our sticks were light sabers…” What had made Bodhi say that? Why did he always say things like that?

“Funny, Chirrut still does that,” Cassian said, not a hint of humor to his voice. But Bodhi laughed. In all his life, he had never met Chirrut, even though he had explored the temple when he was a kid. It wasn’t until Saw’s cell that he met him. He stopped laughing. Saw. Bor Gullet. The tentacles. The pain. The-

“We should rest,” Cassian said, returning his head to its former position. “There are still a few hours before dinner, and I’d like Jyn to at least believe we slept while she was gone.”

“Yeah…” Bodhi trailed off, struggling to find a resting position for his body. His awareness of the stint and catheter crept back, and he suddenly felt more uncomfortable than before. He stared up at the ceiling. At the bright light again. It was only after he began staring up that he realized he could see now, his vision no longer blurred. And he could hear! When had that even started? When Jyn had first left? He’d heard everything Cassian had said. Or was Cassian talking loudly? For him? He’d called Bodhi a “hero.” And he’d offered Bodhi a job! A real job, for the Alliance. For the Rebellion. He had purpose. Sleep soon came.


	2. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi's first moments entirely by himself in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're on Yavin IV. Just...it's fine. Go with it.

Bodhi had been happy to have the stint and catheter removed, and was only too happy to remove the dressing gown he had been in, and pull on the standard issue outfit the Alliance had given him. And new boots, too! But it was only too apparent to him that his arm was now mechanical, as he slid his arms through his linen shirt. The top of his long central ponytail fell over his shoulders, loose and unrestrained. He needed something to tie it up: it felt greasy and unkempt. He started looking around for something, anything! He shouldn’t walk around like this. Or would anyone care? Maybe they wouldn’t. He looked over at Cassian, and froze when he realized he was already dressed, sitting, watching him this whole time and not saying a word. If looks could kill, Cassian’s eyes were a beam from the Death Star.

“I uh…my hair…I just…if there was something-something I could-could tie it up with,” Bodhi said, darting his glance away from Cassian and looking around some more. Cassian was silent.

“You both ready?” Jyn bounded into the room just at the right time.

“Yeah, I just…Yeah, we’re ready,” Bodhi said, looking at Cassian. Cassian nodded, but was still silent. He stood up from his bed to join Bodhi and Jyn as they walked from the room.

“I’m sorry to say none of us are really near one another, and I’m actually on another floor,” Jyn said, walking them down the corridor. But you’re both on the same floor, just down different hallways. The mess is on my floor, and the showers are in the middle.” She seemed to be giving them the description of an enemy base rather than a tour of where they were living.

“Mess hall. Nothing special. Sometimes the food is good, sometimes it’s…well, we take what we can get when supplies are low or hard to get,” she said with a sad crooked grin, inviting them to peer in at the mundane room with a serving buffet and cold metal benches. She continued on her tour, bringing them to the elevator. As the doors slid shut, she pushed the button for the third floor.

As the doors slid open, they entered into a long, stark metal corridor with hastily painted walls, leading down either end in an equal distance from the elevator. Opposite the elevator, Bodhi could hear running water, and wasn’t surprised as Jyn pointed and said “showers.” Bodhi began realizing that a military base was a military base, Alliance or Empire, they weren’t much different. Deep down, he fantascized that the Alliance’s base here on Yavin was warmer and more inviting. But this was war, the Death Star’s destruction didn’t mean order had returned to the Galaxy, and there was no time for comfort. She took them down the right corridor, and led them to one of the many identical doors with a key pad to the left.

“7-1-2-0, Cassian, that’s your number,” she said as she punched the numbers in. The door slid open to a room that contained nothing more than a bed, a wardrobe, a toilet, and a sink. If Bodhi didn’t also know what Imperial quarters looked like, he’d think this was a prison. But it was more than he had gotten as a cargo pilot, forced to sleep on his ship once he’d been assigned one.

“I’m sorry, they couldn’t give you both decent rooms. I asked, but we’ll have to wait.”

“That’s…I mean, I really don’t-I don’t mind. It’s more than I had on my ship,” Bodhi said. He glanced at Cassian, and realized he was just as sour as before. Had he always been this sour? He sat on the bed, leaning forward, making eye contact with each of them as if to ask them to leave.

“Come on, Bodhi, yours is down the other way,” Jyn said, wrapping an arm around Bodhi and gently guiding him out of the room, sensing that it was time for her and Bodhi to leave. Bodhi watched Cassian as they left the room, not moving at all. What was wrong with Cassian? Bodhi hadn’t been asking too many questions. Right? He really hadn’t been annoying.

Or maybe it was Jyn? No, Cassian always got on with Jyn. Maybe he was tired?

“Here’s your room, Bodhi. Your code is 3-6-2-8.” The doors slid open to reveal a room identical to Cassian’s, only his was on the opposite side so his room layout was opposite as well. Bodhi’s heart swelled as he saw his Imperial flight suit folded on top of the sheets, his goggles placed on top; his boots were sitting under the bed. He immediately went to his goggles and picked them up. He’d worn them for so long, they had become a part of him, and it felt wonderful to have something familiar in his unfamiliar hand.

“They thought you’d like to keep them, as a sort of momen-“ Jyn was cut off in mid-sentence as Bodhi engulfed Jyn in his arms, his black metal fingers still clutched around his goggles. He didn’t know what to say, and hugging her was warm and pleasant. When was the last time he had hugged someone? Since he’d even touched someone? He felt his cheeks flush again. She gently pushed him away but kept her hands on his shoulders.

“Dinner is in a few hours,” she said with a smile.

“Can't wait!” Bodhi exclaimed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to sit down and eat, and was more than excited by the idea. She leaned in and kissed his cheek before releasing him and leaving his room, giving him a small wave as she left.

Bodhi was still holding his goggles. He stared at them, clutched in his hand. The past few weeks, months even, had all seemed like a blur. He sighed, tossing his goggles onto the bed, and decided it was time to adequately clean his hair. He didn’t remember any sort of bath while he was in the med bay, but other than his hair, he hadn’t really noticed any alarming smells. Facing the little mirror hanging above the sink, he slowly peered at the reflection starring back. His once brown skin had paled, and he certainly had bags under his eyes, accentuating the hollowness of his cheeks. His beard had grown in thicker but was still patchy. The once shaved bits on the sides of his head had grown a bit longer, and his hair sloppily lay pooled on his shoulders. He couldn’t look at himself any more. Who was this person? Why were they even there? Who was Bodhi Rook?

Bodhi turned from his reflection to the wardrobe, and opened the twin metal doors and found the towels he had hoped would be in there. Where was the soap? Was there soap in the showers? Should he go and ask someone? No, he’d just go there and find out: asking questions was embarrassing, and he should’ve asked Jyn when she was with him.

He hummed as he strolled down to the taupe tile lined showers, happy to have some sense of freedom. A few benches donned the changing area, and there were some hooks for towels outside the shower stalls, which were individual and enclosed with a curtain. Thankfully there was some soap, or someone had accidentally left. Or did they? Should he just take it? No, he was only going to use it once, it wouldn’t be missed. He slipped his new uniform off, the belt clanging on the tile floor, as he dumped his clothes in a pile. He adjusted the water temperature and kept darting his hand in until he was satisfied with the temperature. He could feel the water between his fingers! He shook his head and grinned at the ability to feel the water wash over his new limb, and hopped in the shower. He let out a deep breath. When was the last time he’d actually gotten to take a shower? Not since Eadu, he decided. It felt good to be immersed, finally able to truly wash the battle off of him.

He absently cleaned himself as he thought about the day, lathering his hair and swirling it up on his head. The soap! It smelled! Just a little, but what if it really did belong to someone? And they noticed! It was too late now, he told himself. The scent reminded him of Jyn: he hadn’t even realized she had a scent until now. He thought about their embraces, how she had kissed his cheek. She had seemed so at ease, so content and so caring. He’d never really had friends before: he’d always been too shy, too nervous to interact with anyone. But now Bodhi had real friends! Or at least Jyn. What had been wrong with Cassian? Why had he been so sour? He had seemed more relaxed just a few days before when Jyn had visited. He recalled how she had run her fingers through his hair as she talked to him, and how they had bantered: he loved listening to them poke fun at one another. But Cassian had hardly spoken a word today.

Bodhi’s thoughts drifted again to Eadu, to the rain-soaked tragedy that had enfolded the day that left Galen and the other engineer’s dead. Cassian had thrust a poncho into Bodhi’s arms, and all but pushed him into the rain. It had only been hours since they had left Jedha, and Bodhi, still in shock and horrific pain, was hardly able to walk. But Cassian, had encouraged Bodhi to walk on, and had even let him ramble on about nothing in particular, something that made Bodhi feel more at ease. Cassian had tried to press Bodhi for information about how long Saw had tortured him, and when Bodhi responded, Cassian had laughed. He was hurt at first, thinking that he was making fun of him, but when he looked at Cassian, his parka fur slicked to his neck and hair slicked to his head because he had given Bodhi his rain poncho and hat, he saw that he had genuinely amused Cassian, and Bodhi had smiled back.

Bodhi felt as if the rain were pouring down on him now, and remembered how Cassian said he’d have his back. No one had ever said that to him. Not a stranger. He felt a ripple of sensation as he tipped his head up, letting the water run down the front of him. He’d been alone since his mother had died and he’d joined the Imperial Academy. He'd had his instructor, Misurno, but he never got on with his classmates. Bodhi smiled: Cassian hadn’t been wrong: everything that had happened from Eadu to Scarif, he hadn’t been wrong. Despite Cassian's current disposition and constant attitude towards Bodhi, he did have his back, and Bodhi was only too happy to return the favor to the rest of the Rogue One crew in their most crucial moment of need.

His thoughts drifted back to Eadu, how he and Cassian had crouched together looking for Galen amongst the engineers: he thought about what he hadn’t let himself to think of at the time, an image he had memorized so he could recall it again some day: the rain dripping off of Cassian’s hair, his chin, his perfectly imperfect nose…No, no. That’s not right. Yes? He was alone, he was certain of it. He hesitated before finally allowing his metal fingers to wrap around his shaft, and he relished in the sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Too long. He started playing with himself, stroking from tip to base, rubbing his flat thumb on the tip as a raspy moan escaped as his cock succumbed to hardness. He felt the familiar ridges beneath the loose skin as he started pumping slowly, the water soon mixing with his own liquids. No, it had been almost a year since he’d felt himself, he was sure: when he’d started the deliveries for Eadu, he’d constantly been under watch, but now he felt free from those watchful eyes. He quickened his pace, amazed at how effortless and normal using his new arm was. Another moan escaped as he leaned forward against the shower wall, placing his left hand against it for support.

Yet somehow, despite his depravity, he wasn’t releasing. He tightened his grip, grunting as he tugged harder and with deeper strokes, but no good. Another moan, this time in frustration. Panic started surging through him, and he hissed in his breath, making his movement quicker: what if he couldn’t rub this out? How long could he stay in the shower? What time was it? When was dinner? What would he say to Jyn? To-

“Cassian!” he yelped, a shudder running through his body as he felt the warm liquids from inside erupt onto his hand, causing his knees to buckle from the release.

“What?” a voice echoed from inside the shower room. Bodhi froze entirely, the water rushing over him. No, no, no! Why was he there? How long had he been there? Did he know? Had he heard? Yes, he heard! He answered! Leave, just leave and throw on your clothes and go back to your room.

He abruptly turned off the shower and held his crotch as he slid open the shower curtain. To his shock and horror, Cassian stood before him, prepared to enter the shower as well. Bodhi’s eyes darted over his body, taking note of the scars that covered his body, his muscles that weren’t too big, but just right, the delicately placed hair that traced down his stomach, and the large scar on his upper thigh that remained from his surgery. His eyes roamed over his perfect limp cock before shutting his eyes tight, blindly reaching for his towel.

“I uh…it’s…I was…” he couldn’t look at Cassian: he was ashamed. Their exchange lasted only a few seconds, seeming like an eternity. Bodhi grabbed his towel, frantically wrapping it around himself and pushing past Cassian to his clothes, not even bothering to actually dry off. He hastily stuffed himself into his trousers and didn’t bother with his boots, just scooping them into his arms with his shirt. Cassian was still standing in the middle of the shower area, judging Bodhi with his dark eyes, he was sure. He knew. He had to know.

Bodhi bolted out of the shower room and down the hall. His entry number! What was his entry number? He started punching numbers in. No, that was an old shuttle number. No, that was another shuttle. Yes, finally, that’s the one! As the door slid open, Bodhi collapsed into the room. He ran to the sink to make sure he’d gotten everything off his hand, and looked up in the mirror to see that he still hadn’t rinsed his hair. How could he have done that? He’d been so foolish. He ducked his head under the faucet and into the tiny sink, hitting his head on the spout several times as he rinsed the soap out. He stood up, looking at himself in the mirror. His dark hair stuck to the sides of his face and in his beard, and he took in the face he had never been able to like: at the freckles that donned his nose, and the eyes which betrayed what he’d done. What had he done? He felt filthy and dirty, and he wanted to break the face he saw before him.

Bodhi didn’t want to come down to dinner. How could he sit and act normal, like he hadn’t just been caught succumbing to carnal desires and yelling out Cassian’s name, only to find him standing there? He couldn’t, but he had to go: it was the first he’d get a chance to see Chirrut and Baze, who had been up and about several days prior to he and Cassian. He could pretend to be sick? But then he’d be back in the med bay. If only he had been kept there longer…

Much to his luck and surprise, there was another set of clothing in the wardrobe, and Bodhi peeled off his wet trousers and dressed himself properly. He’d found something to tie his hair up with in a bun, and was glad to not have so many loose hairs hanging at the sides. He flung himself down on the bed on his stomach, limbs askew, constantly checking the time. His Imperial uniform was crushed somewhere beneath him, and his goggles were once again clutched in his hands.

He played out the scenario over and over again, sometimes playing out the scenario if something else had happened. Each minute seemed to drag on longer than the last, but finally, it was time. He sighed as he swung himself out of bed, tossing his goggles back. With reluctant and heavy steps he left his room, sure to be met with nothing but stares and gossip.


	3. Right and Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're on Yavin IV. Just...it's fine. Go with it.

A few days had gone by since Bodhi’s incident, but it seemed like it had just happened. Bodhi and Cassian were constantly in meetings about the assignment they were to embark on today, more for Cassian than for Bodhi. Cassian was acting as pilot on this mission, pressed for time, with the hope to train Bodhi in piloting the U-Wing himself. Bodhi couldn’t look Cassian in the eyes, and only interacted with him when it was absolutely necessary. He knew that Cassian had told everyone: they stared at him, whispered, and he wanted to run away when he passed people in the hallway, in the mess hall, or wherever Bodhi found himself. Cassian was very enthusiastic about their mission, but was otherwise distant, cold. Bodhi was sure he was furious that he’d been so careless in letting him do what he’d done in the shower, and probably even more upset that he had yelled Cassian’s name. Bodhi tried to push Cassian out of his thoughts, but he just kept playing the scenario over and over again in his head. Seeing his dark, furrowed face every day didn’t help, either.

He looked at the clock. Nearly time. He sighed, and finally rolled himself out of bed, having been ready for the past several hours. He'd been given a more discreet set of clothing to wear: plain brown pants, a gray top, and a warm, though worn, dark blue leather jacket that seemed to have belonged to someone Bodhi hoped was still alive. He'd strapped on his holster and begrudgingly placed his blaster in it's spot. He picked up the satchel Jyn had packed for him, something she had been only to happy to do for him, and opened it. As he looked inside, he saw that she had placed his goggles on top of his extra set of clothing. At least he had Jyn. She’d been visiting him in the evenings, and he was only too glad to have the distraction. Bodhi smirked to himself as he closed the satchel up and left his room, wishing he could do nothing but lay in bed until the end of time.

As Bodhi made his way to the launch bay, Bodhi marveled at all the ships being repaired and those being prepared. He made his way to the launch bay he knew where the U-Wing had been prepped. There were people rushing about everywhere, one ship was departing and another docking. He felt the familiar stares and hushed whispers. What was worse: staying at the base and enduring this, or being trapped on a vessel with the one person that you'd just...thought about...? His eyes caught sight of the all too familiar sour, scruffy face. He was talking to Jyn, and Bodhi was more than relieved to see her there. Maybe she was coming? He hoped she was. She ran up to Bodhi and pulled him in to a tight embrace, and whispered in his ear.

“Be a good man, alright? Take care of yourself? Take care of Cassian? He’s not been doing so well, and I really think he needs you.” She squeezed him tighter, and finally released him. But Bodhi wasn’t really listening. He nodded his head.

“Bye Jyn. Thanks, for uh...for packing for me.” She smiled, and walked to Cassian and made the same rounds with him.

As Bodhi entered the familiar U-Wing (while not the exact same as the first he'd been in) to his shock and surprise, he saw that Chirrut and Baze were already sitting along the benches that lined the outer rim of the deck. Bodhi’s heart almost jumped out of his chest. So he wasn’t going to be alone with Cassian! He’d have his other friends! Bodhi smiled from ear to ear.

“You thought we’d let our little brothers make their first trip alone?” Baze asked, pulling Bodhi into a tight hug.

“N-no, I just…in all those meetings you weren’t…I mean, we never saw you…I didn’t know-“

“It was a last minute decision,” Cassian snapped, making his was to the pilot’s chair.

“And we are here with you as the Force wills us to be,” Chirrut drawled, in complete opposition to Cassian’s tone as Baze released Bodhi so that Chirrut could hug him as well.

“We’re-I mean, I’m-I’m glad you are…uh…here…with me. Us,” Bodhi managed to say, trying to conceal his relief.

“We are glad, too,” Chirrut responded, letting go of Bodhi.

There wasn't much space on the ship, but Bodhi managed to find a place to stuff his satchel. He contemplated pulling his goggles out. Would he look silly? They’d think he looked silly. There wasn’t a point. He didn’t need them. He made his way over to the co-pilot’s seat, feeling Cassian’s eyes on him. But as he hopped up on the raised seat, he felt at home. His eyes ran over the controls and he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He reached for the headset, and placed it on his head. Home. He was home. It wasn’t his cargo shuttle, but it was a ship, and that was all the mattered.

It wasn't soon before they were clear of Yavin 4, and Cassian pulled the hyper-space bar down, plunging them into a frenzied tunnel.

Bodhi turned around to look at Baze and Chirrut, who were lounging on the benches. He was so glad they were there.

“Have you been...the mission? Have you been...uh..."

“Briefed. No. We knew they wouldn't need as much time,” Cassian snapped, abruptly ending Bodhi’s stuttering. Was Cassian implying that Bodhi had been forced to attend all those meetings because he wouldn't get it? Because it took him longer to process things?

Baze shot Cassian a look.

Bodhi suddenly felt awkward sitting in the co-pilot's chair, like he didn’t belong, staring at his dangling feet.

Cassian hopped down and began talking to Chirrut and Baze, telling them about the mission. Bodhi wasn't listening, but he knew what Cassian was saying: meet with the informant, get the information, kill the informant, get off the planet. Why was there always killing involved? Bodhi had refused a blaster after their last meeting had gotten out, but Cassian had found one and forced it into Bodhi's hands. Bodhi had delicately placed it in his holster, scared it would randomly fire at him. He hoped he'd never need it.

As the ship exited hyper-space, Cassian began punching in the co-ordinates they had been given. Bodhi had gotten lost here once, and knew the numbers weren't exactly right. They would end up hundreds of miles below their target city with a rather unsettled atmosphere.

“No, Cassian, that’s not right,” Bodhi blurted out. He’d never told Cassian he was doing something wrong. He wished he could take it back, let Cassian pilot the ship however he wanted. The ship would probably be torn apart, but as Cassian turned on him, he'd rather that option.

"Oh? This your ship, Rook?”

Bodhi gulped. “No, Cassian it’s just-“

“Not your ship,” Cassian snapped.

“Well if you’ll just listen to my suggestions, I think-“

“No, you don’t think, Bodhi. You just talk!”

“Cassian…” Bodhi pleaded. Why weren’t Baze and Chirrut helping? Maybe they didn’t want to. Why was Cassian so upset all the time? It couldn't have only been what had happened the other day, could it? Maybe Bodhi was annoying. Maybe Cassian was right. No. Cassian was wrong, and Bodhi was right.

“Zip it, Bodhi!”

“NO!” Bodhi yelled. “You’re wrong, and I’m telling you I’m right. You’re listening to me, and we’re not doing what you want!” Bodhi’s yelling got louder and louder with each word, and as he finished his sentence, his words bounced off the metal, landing on silence. Cassian froze, and Bodhi made the adjustments he knew he needed to make to the co-ordinates with stiff, deliberate movements, and took over the controls, seething. Cassian had fallen silent, but Bodhi didn’t care: Cassian had been rude to him and to other people, and it was uncalled for. They sat in complete silence as the ship entered the planet’s atmosphere, and that was when Bodhi had decided to glance at Cassian. Much to Bodhi’s shock, Cassian wasn’t pouting, wasn’t teeming on the brink of war: he was smiling. Bodhi turned to him.

“What?” Bodhi hissed.

“You were right. This is your second time in one of my ships, no training except for what you remembered, which was awhile ago, and you are entirely right,” Cassian said, turning to look at Bodhi. Their eyes locked.

“Th-thanks,” Bodhi grunted, as he returned his gaze to the controls.

They had to land their U-Wing some distance outside of the city in a wooded environment and walk in to the city, but the city was donned with many outlining towns and villages, and foot traffic was normal. In silence they left the ship, Bodhi not looking at anyone in the face. The temperature was chilly, and Bodhi wasn't at all surprised to see Cassian wearing his all-to-familiar blue parka. Bodhi came from a cold environment planet, too, but it seemed he had a much higher tolerance for the cold than Cassian did. It was Bodhi who led the way into the city, passing through the gates and entering the bustle of a city in the early hours of the evening. Speeders raced here and there, and people walked through crowded streets, making the former Rogue One squad’s presence less than noticeable. Bodhi felt different walking in this city: it reminded him of Jedha, and stealing a glance at Chirrut and Baze, he wasn’t wrong.

They were to meet their target in a bar, some dive of a place they were told, gather their information, and slip poison in his drink: a slow poison that would take time to consume the body so as not to arouse suspicion. They were briefed on every employee: the waiters, the bar tenders, even some of the regular patrons. They were early, and Chirrut and Baze needed to establish their lookouts in the event that their mission turned sour: they were to serve as immediate backup in the event of an unforeseeable incident. Confident they’d secured a safe hiding place, Cassian and Bodhi departed them and made their way to the bar.

The bar was dark, dingy, and smelled of engine fluid and death. Bodhi felt his boots sticking to the floor, and he pulled his borrowed leather jacket closed in the front, feeling like he was exposed and naked in a place that was now unfamiliar to him. In his late teens and early twenty's, Bodhi had spent a bit of time at some of the bars on Jedha, but they were occupied, and everyone seemed to always be on their best behavior lest a trooper arrest you for lack of something better to do.

Bodhi and Cassian walked silently to the bar, and decided to get themselves drinks as they waited. The bar stools that accompanied the harsh metal bar swiveled and stood just enough off the ground that Bodhi's feet did not touch. He slouched forward so that he was almost standing, leaning his arms on the bar. The bar tender was half machine, half human. He smiled at Bodhi and Cassian, his wicked yellow teeth snarling as he wiped a heavily scarred arms across his nose and sniffed in. Bodhi realized they had something in common, but Bodhi suddenly felt ashamed of his exposed hand, and kept it between his knees.

"What can I get you boys?" the bar tender asked, in a higher pitched voice than they both had been expecting. Bodhi tried his best not to giggle: it really had not been the voice he was expecting at all. He glanced over at Cassian, but he seemed unmoved. Bodhi respected his ability to concentrate so hard on the task at hand, and suddenly felt like he didn't belong on this mission, sitting beside Cassian.

"Vaschean rye," Cassian said smoothly. The bar tender nodded.

"I'll uh. I'll have the same. Yeah," Bodhi responded. He'd never heard of the drink, but he trusted that Cassian knew his alcohol, and knew what he could drink on missions. When the bar tender brought them their drinks, Bodhi sipped his silently, watching Cassian in his peripheral. The drink wasn't bad, and seemed to go down easy enough. He hoped that their informant would show up soon: he didn't know how much longer he could stand the awkwardness between them.


	4. Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're on Yavin IV. Just...it's fine. Go with it.

“Cassian! Cassian stop! He’s dead!” Bodhi screamed as Cassian continued to fire more blaster shots in the informant’s body. Everything had gone wrong, and now Cassian had lost control. Bodhi was still in a daze as to how it all happened...

“Cassian! You. Have. To. Stop!” Bodhi grabbed Cassian’s arms from behind, and managed to restrain his firing arm. Cassian’s breathing was savage, and tears streamed down his reddened face: the corpse he’d been shooting at was nothing more than splattered blood and particles of flesh, muscles and organs, and torn fabric spewed across the alleyway. Bodhi managed to get Cassian to face him, but his eyes were darting everywhere.

“Cassian, you have to calm down. We still have to make it back to the ship,” Bodhi tried in a relaxed tone. Cassian finally made eye contact with Bodhi, and suddenly collapsed against him, his body writhing with sobs. Cassian pressed his blaster into Bodhi’s hands and he placed it back in Cassian’s holster. Bodhi said nothing as he held him up, helping him to walk away from the gory scene. It was late enough that people were safe in the places they called home, safe from the carnage in the streets below them. They walked silently through the city, and Bodhi hoped that any passerby would think Cassian was just drunk. Chirrut and Baze had taken off after an Imperial spy, the reason this had all happened.

Leaving the oblivious city behind them, they made the trek to the U-Wing, Bodhi getting tired under the weight of Cassian, who was leaning on him more and more with each step.  
Once inside, Bodhi helped Cassian onto a bench, and found some towels and some canteens of water, offering them to Cassian: his eyes were glassy, and he sat motionless, so Bodhi began to clean Cassian up. Bodhi recognized that his mind was elsewhere. When were Chirrut and Baze coming back? Chirrut could help Cassian out of his daze. Bodhi had been like this himself after Bor Gullet, but it was the shock of seeing Jedha engulfed by the Death Star’s ray that had snapped him back…

After getting as much dirt and mud off of Cassian’s skin that he could, Cassian nodded distantly as though to say he was in a better place. He patted Cassian’s hair and walked over to his co-pilot’s chair, pulling up his knees and curling himself up in the large cushioned chair. Bodhi didn’t really know Cassian that well, but he knew him well enough to know that something traumatic had happened to make him behave this way. Scarif? That was it. It was still traumatizing to Bodhi, and it was all he could do at night to not think about it himself. Bodhi shut his eyes and hoped he’d fall asleep: he needed to radio the Rebel Base and let them know what happened, but he hoped he could wait until Chirrut and Baze came back…

The events of the past week played out over and over again in Bodhi’s mind as he struggled to achieve sleep. Should he have said this? He played out the new scenario. Should he have done that? He played out that new scenario. But the one scenario he couldn’t bring himself to replay was the shower. His mind flashed him the images he so desperately wanted to erase, and he tried to replace them with something else, but the substitute wasn’t much better. Carnage or carnal desires?

He drifted off to sleep, and dreams of Terrabe and the Academy played out in his mind. He was late to one of his classes, but as he turned the corner to enter the classroom, it had somehow turned into the showers on Yavin: they were not and somehow they were. The dream began playing itself out much the same way: in this dream, he pulled down his trousers and began rubbing the insides of his thighs, teasing himself before finally gripping his cock. But somehow his strokes were more sensational, less even, and just a touch scratchy. He moaned in the dream, as he felt what he imaged a tongue would feel like as it danced across his tip. Another moan as he felt another hand at the base of his cock, gently rubbing his shaft while at the same time pressing against his sac. The shower water ran over him, warm and gentle. He was taking it slow, and it was pain and bliss all at once.

In his dream, a deep humming began from somewhere unknown, and he felt the hum dance up his cock, vibrating it. No, these things were too real! He was awake, this wasn’t a dream. This was not a dream! Dreams weren’t this vivid and with so much feeling. He was now playing with himself in his sleep, on Cassian’s ship, and his eyes shot open in horror. But his hands were hanging at his sides, and he wasn’t holding himself. He looked down, but he was not expecting what he saw: a head, gently bobbing up and down: the familiar imperfect nose, the unkempt brown hair, and the unshaven face. Bodhi’s pants were gathered at his ankles, his legs spread with a hand now on his inner thigh, and his belt and holster with his unused blaster were nowhere to be seen.

“Cahahssian! Wha…?” he tried to say, but his breathing was too quick and his cock was being thrashed by Cassian’s tongue and mouth, making speech impossible in the throes of pleasure. Cassian placed his free hand up to Bodhi’s lips, looking up at Bodhi with sparkling eyes as a grin twitched in the corners of his open mouth. He paused only for a second to make this exchange before resuming his tantalizing play.

This was wrong. It was wrong. Cassian hadn’t asked. He’d taken advantage of Bodhi, hadn’t even asked permission. After what had just happened, after the way Cassian had been behaving, Bodhi wanted to feel confused, to push Cassian off of him, to scream at him, but Cassian’s eyes were paralyzing. Yes, this was right. He thought of the way Cassian looked that day at the showers: his naked form, his scars, and the perfect limp that lay between his thighs. He gently grabbed Cassian’s head as he watched the perfectly angled face nested in his crotch, running his hand through his hair while his mechanical hand gripped the seat beneath him. Cassian breathed in deep, and took in more of Bodhi’s shaft as he began faster, deeper movements. This was enough to make Bodhi’s toes curl as he pulled Cassian’s hair with one hand and dug his metal fingers in the armrest, a shiver coursing through him. A drawn out moan began as he felt his body quake, his cock erupting into Cassian’s mouth. Cassian didn’t flinch as he swallowed twice. Bodhi released his hands, and began to stroke Cassian’s hair. Cassian slowly lapped up every bit of Bodhi that had escaped him, and licked his lips as he met Bodhi’s eyes with a fierce lust. He rose from his position below the co-pilot’s chair and climbed on top of Bodhi’s spread thighs, dangling his legs on either side.

Caught in a state between ecstasy and confusion, he kept Cassian’s gaze, fierce and mischievous. How he was balancing on top of Bodhi was nothing shy of practiced skill, as he began pressing his palms into Bodhi’s chest. He managed to maneuver a slow hand behind Bodhi’s head as he pulled himself in to explore Bodhi’s mouth with his own. Bodhi slammed his eyes shut and reciprocated the action, tasting a bit of himself in Cassian’s mouth. Deep guttural moans hummed in their throats as their mouths intertwined, gasping for air only when necessary. Bodhi placed his left hand behind Cassian’s shoulder as his mechanical hand untucked his shirt in the front and traced a path up to his pectorals. Dashing out of Bodhi’s mouth, Cassian’s tongue traced a line from his mouth to his ear, barely touching the rim and gently tugging on his lobe. Bodhi moaned again as he felt his cock press into Cassian’s stomach.

Both his hands were now on the front of Cassian, rubbing his chest and stomach, making their way down while above they began exploring each other’s mouths again. Cassian let out a soft purr as Bodhi bit Cassian’s lower lip, sucking it in and releasing it several times. He started moving his hands downwards, prepared to work on Cassian’s belt, when his hands were abruptly pushed away as Cassian grabbed Bodhi’s hands and locked his fingers in them. Cassian, sitting on top of Bodhi, had the high ground, and began grinding his hips against him, pinning Bodhi’s cock between them, the friction tantalizing.

Cassian let go of Bodhi’s hands and they looked at each other silently before Cassian began licking and spitting his own hands, not breaking eye contact, lathering them as much as he could before wrapping them around Bodhi’s firm cock, but he didn’t need the extra wetness. Bodhi moaned as he felt Cassian’s strong hands take him, rubbing up and down in opposite directions on his shaft. Cassian started kissing Bodhi again, as the palm of one hand pushed forwards and backwards, wrapping his fingers around the shaft every now and then in a playful fashion. His other hand had taken to rubbing his thighs, a slight tickle coursing through him.

Bodhi could barely breathe, and he and Cassian exchanged sloppy lips and tongues as Cassian’s movements rocked them in the seat. Fully untucking Cassian’s shirt, Bodhi began rubbing his hand on Cassian’s bottom. Bodhi breathed in a hiss and Cassian increased his speed, their mouths hanging open. Bodhi opened his eyes and felt an extra pang course through him at seeing Cassian looking down and snarling his mouth as he pushed with harder and longer strokes. He watched Cassian’s hands, struggling not to pass out from the pleasure. He felt his body shivering with ecstasy once more, a moan morphing into a scream, pinging off the metal walls of the ship. The moment was all the more satisfying as he saw his wetness burst onto Cassian’s hand.

Without a word of warning, Cassian hopped down, leaving Bodhi completely exposed and exhausted. What had just happened? He couldn’t gather a single thought. Cassian returned with a towel, and gently cleaned Bodhi up so as not to arouse his finally flaccid cock. Bodhi was paralyzed with confusion and pleasure all at once. Seemingly content with his cleanup, Cassian walked to one of the benches that lined the wall, and shoved the wet towel underneath. Bodhi must have twisted his expression into more confusion, because Cassian responded almost immediately.

“Chirrut and Baze said they’d be here in an hour, about 45 minutes ago. I already radioed headquarters about the mission. I told them everything that happened, that we were here waiting for Chirrut and Baze.” Bodhi could do nothing but blink. He felt a breeze and realized his trousers were still down around his ankles. He hopped off the chair, pulling his trousers up and tucking his shirt in. He felt around the ground for his belt, realizing that Cassian was standing in front of him, motionless, the belt hanging in his hand.

Cassian strode up to Bodhi, looking down into his eyes as he began looping the belt through Bodhi’s trousers.

“It’s my job, to watch others. To observe targets. And you, cargo pilot,” Cassian said, notching the belt, “are my favorite target.”

Cassian dropped his hands and Bodhi’s knees weakened at the glint in Cassian’s eye as they stood face to face, Bodhi certain that Cassian could hear his pulse racing. What had just happened? Why was Cassian acting so casual? At least he wasn’t grumpy, but how was Cassian so calm? Surely he needed relief, and yet he had pushed Bodhi’s hands away. Their encounter had been everything Bodhi had romanticized, but Cassian hadn’t wanted anything for himself. Had he not been as aroused? A wave of self-doubt crept into Bodhi’s thoughts, as he heard the ship’s hatch begin to creak open and drop.

“Move,” Baze said gruffly, prodding a man in front of him. Chirrut followed behind.

“You found him? And you didn’t kill him?” Cassian’s questions had a slight bit of humor behind them: that Baze had kept from killing any Imperial happened but once.

Bodhi’s eyes scanned the middle-aged spy: his clothes were filthy and mismatched, but something didn’t seem right. His boots were tucked under his pant legs, but Bodhi could tell that they were Officer’s boots. It was then that he realized that the whole outfit was made to look dirty. He scanned their prisoner’s face, and recognized how clean-shaven he was, and how perfect his hair lay. His eyes were frantic, scanning the ship and his captors, but his lips were pursed shut. Baze shoved their prisoner over to one of the benches, and made quick work of gathering cords and strings to bind him and secure him to the bench. Once he was seated, Cassian strolled over to him, standing with his hands knotted behind his back, looking down.

“I look forward to breaking you,” Cassian vowed. He rocked back on his feet and kicked a leg up to push against the spy’s shoulder, forcing all his weight on to his foot to hold his balance. The spy yelped in reaction. Bodhi was unsure of what to do, or where he should even stand. He knew Cassian had a reputation of violence, and he was dreading the prospect of witnessing an interrogation. Baze and Chirrut came to stand on either side of Cassian, clearly adding to the intimidation.


	5. After Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew return, only to be separated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're on Yavin IV. Just...it's fine. Go with it.

They returned to Yavin IV under no extraordinary circumstances. The imprisoned Imperial was met with several fleet troopers who ushered him away from Bodhi, Cassian, Baze and Chirrut; the four were met with a big hug a piece from Jyn. General Draven pulled Cassian over to the side to talk to him.

“I’m so glad you all made it back in one piece!” Jyn exclaimed. “From what I saw on the report (that I maybe was not supposed to see), you ended up having an altercation with our informant? And that’s when the spy picked you out and began targeting you?”

“Y-yeah, something like that…” Bodhi said, scratching his head.

“You should have let me kill him,” Baze snipped at Chirrut, but Chirrut just smiled.

“Well, anyway, I’m glad you’re all back. I’ll see you all at dinner,” Jyn said with a wave, running to meetup with another officer (Bodhi was still learning how to read Rebel rank medals). He started playing with the straps on his satchel, adjusting them and re-adjusting them. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now. Did he just, act normal? Like nothing had happened with Cassian? Was he supposed to make a move? Cassian had retreated back into his quiet self again, but he wasn’t quite as rough around the edges as he had been before they had departed.

Cassian made his way back over, and the quartet, realizing it was near dinner time, began walking away from the hangar towards the mess hall. Bodhi was still adjusting with his straps, when one of them tripped up his feet and he stumbled a bit. He didn’t fall, but he fell to a knee, realizing that stillness was needed to actually adjust what he needed to. Or thought he needed to. He wasn’t sure. The others fell back, but Cassian knelt beside Bodhi.

“Go ahead. I know what’s wrong, I’ll fix it,” Cassian said to Baze and Chirrut. Baze shrugged and led Chirrut out of the hangar. Bodhi felt like his pulse could make the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs.

Cassian took Bodhi’s satchel from him wordlessly, easily fixing what wasn’t actually wrong but what Bodhi had made wrong, moving this hook here and that hook there.

“I’m…sorry,” Cassian said in a hushed voice as he looked down at the satchel. “For what I did. To you.”

“It’s…I didn’t say no, Cassian. I actually,” he felt a lump swell in his throat, and he swallowed hard, afraid to look in Cassian’s eyes. “I…well…Look. Cassian, I’ve never been with someone like that. And I don’t want to be with anyone else,” Cassian immediately looked dejected and began making jerkier movements with his adjusting of the strap length.

“I understand,” Cassian huffed.

“No! I didn’t mean…I meant,” Bodhi said as he placed a shaky hand on Cassian’s. “I only want to be with you.” Cassian met Bodhi’s gaze and they both grinned.

“Me too,” Cassian said. Bodhi felt a tear well-up in his eye. He really hadn’t been with anyone else like he’d been with Cassian. Before he’d left Jedha for Terrabe, he’d had a handful of relationships, some even half meaningful, but this was nothing like that. Without any restraint, he lunged at Cassian and hugged him, and realized he’d knocked the air out of Cassian as he exclaimed with an “oof” at Bodhi’s embrace. Bodhi felt safe in Cassian’s arms, and wanted nothing more than to stay like he was, in that moment, forever.

“After dinner,” Cassian breathed in Bodhi’s ear. Bodhi felt his stomach give out. No, no that was his stomach growling at the exact same time. Cassian seemed to hear it, too. He stood up with Bodhi’s satchel, and handed it back to Bodhi as he stood up as well. Bodhi was certain his face had turned a new shade of red and felt the heat in his cheeks rise to a dangerous temperature. All he could do was nod at Cassian, who smiled.

They walked wordlessly to the mess hall, Bodhi taking his satchel with him rather than returning it to his room. He realized then that neither Cassian, Chirrut nor Baze had taken anything with them. As they stood in line, Bodhi realized that people still seemed to be talking about him. Was it still the shower incident? That was resolved now. No, how would they know that. No one knew. No one except for him and Cassian. Maybe Chirrut, but that was only because he was observant with the force.

Dinner was nothing spectacular, but it seemed that a supply shipment had recently been delivered, because there was much wider variety in options than they had gotten before they left on their assignment. Taking their trays they found the end of a table to sit at together, Bodhi dropped his satchel beside him as he hitched his legs over the bench. Cassian sat beside him, Chirrut and Baze taking up what little room there was on the other side. Now Bodhi really felt like people were talking about him. It had to be the shower incident, it just had to be! And the fact that he was sitting beside the man whose name he had called out had to have provoked it.

Cassian silently ate his dinner, his eyes scanning the room as he often did in crowded places: not anything new. Chirrut and Baze were talking about something Bodhi wasn’t really listening to. Bodhi realized Jyn was talking to a group of X-Wing pilots, their bright orange flight suits in stark contrast to the surrounding gray benches and tables. Bodhi had no words to say. He was caught between replaying the events of the mission, what had happened between him and Cassian, and the whispers and stares he was certain he was noticing. His thoughts were broken, however, when a younger looking soldier came running up to Cassian.

“Captain Andor, sir,” the girl said, slightly flustered. “General Draven needs to see you, sir. He said he wanted to wait until after you were done eating, but said it couldn’t wait, sir.” Cassian looked like war itself, but only nodded. He squeezed Bodhi’s knee under the table and stood up, following the soldier out of the mess hall. Bodhi scrunched his face up in confusion as he watched Cassian leave, but knew that it was the nature of Cassian’s regained position within the Rebellion.

Chirrut started asking Bodhi about Jedha, a topic he was shocked hadn’t been brought up before. They sat in the mess hall for quite some time, Bodhi expecting Cassian to return in any minute. After an hour had passed and no one else remained in the mess hall but Chirrut, Baze and Bodhi, they decided to go back to their rooms. Bodhi took Cassian’s tray with him, dropping it on the conveyer belt, but grabbed the few snacks that were always left out for those with unusual work schedules to give to Cassian later.

Bodhi walked back to his room, but as he was about to punch in his numbers, he realized he’d left his satchel in the mess hall. When he finally made his way back, he saw two fleet troopers hunched over together, their hushed voices still echoing off the now deserted walls of the mess hall. They took no notice of Bodhi as he stood at the entrance.

“He won’t make it out of this one, there’s no way,” one of the troopers said.

“We say that every time, though, and then he’s always back,” the other responded.

Bodhi felt a lump rise in his throat. He didn’t want to assume, but…

“If I were Andor, I’d ask to be reassigned. After Scarif, you’d think Draven would let up on him, give him easier assignments.”

“He just sent him on one a few days ago, didn’t he? Just after they were cleared from the med bay? And he dragged that poor little cargo pilot along with him. Rook, that’s his name, right? I hear he’s one hell of a pilot and damn near saved the entire Alliance by himself, and that asshole Andor’s gotta drag him along on his suicide missions.”

“Won’t matter, Andor’s not making it back. He asked Draven to send him out alone before the rest of his crew knew. But it was supposed to be in a few days. Guess something happened. Had to send him out tonight.”

Bodhi felt tears sting his cheeks. He never cried, not unless he was in pain. But this was pain. And it was anger, and confusion and fear all at once. He ran from the mess hall to the hangar, desperately looking for Cassian.

Bodhi pulled aside the first person he could find, a mechanic, an older man with a receding hairline, and pot belly, and crooked yellow teeth, who was cleaning his hands on a rag.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Captain Andor,” he said, trying to mask his panic.

“Sorry mate, he left about an hour ago. Took an A-Wing,” the mechanic responded.

“Where? I mean, do you know where he went?” Bodhi asked, trying to calm his emotions.

“Castell, I think.”

Bodhi’s mind was racing, but it was formulating a plan.

“Why did he take an A-Wing? Aren’t there more X-Wings ready?”

“Andor always takes A-Wings on solo missions. I tried to get him to take this V-Wing,” the mechanic said, gesturing behind him. “When Andor knew we salvaged it a week ago, he begged me to start working on it. Just finished, too. Even got it all tanked up. But he wanted the A-Wing this time,” the mechanic sighed.

“Why was Cas-Captain Andor so interested in it?” Bodhi pressed, hoping he wasn’t too obvious.

“Dunno. It’s pretty damn near similar to a TIE fighter, you’re guess is as good as mine, kid,” the mechanic shrugged.

Bodhi thought his heart skipped a beat. Had Cassian set this up? There couldn’t have been any other reason for him to take interest in a ship the Alliance barely even used.

“Want to take a look? I’m pretty proud of this piece of metal, and Andor seemed a little pre-occupied.”

“Absolutely,” Bodhi said without hesitation.

The mechanic took Bodhi over to the ship, going over every detail imaginable. He climbed the ladder with Bodhi up to the cock pit, and yelled out the various components below him several rungs of the ladder below. Now wasn’t the time.

“Thanks,” Bodhi said, trying to feign disinterest.

“Any time, kid. Glad someone would take the time to listen,” the mechanic said, patting his shoulder.

“Take care,” Bodhi said, as he waved goodbye.

He tried his best not to run from the hangar and back to his room, and settled on a brisk walk. He decided to swing back to the mess and see if it was clear to grab his satchel. No one there. He scooped it up and ran back to his room, pacing until the hour had finally come.

In the stillness of the night, Bodhi slipped into the V-Wing. There were still many soldiers and officers around, even as late as when he’d headed to the hangar, but walked with as much confidence as he could muster: no one asked if you looked like you knew what you were doing. There was a small crew that had just returned on a U-Wing pulling into the hangar as Bodhi crept up to his target. Though several hundred feet away with other ships between them, Bodhi still glanced in the direction of the U-Wing as he snuck into the V-Wing. Taking a deep breath, he turned closed the hatch. Well, no alarms yet! He turned on the engine, scanning the dash, trying to remember everything he’d been told a few hours ago. With a deep breath, he started pulling out of the hangar. Ships departed and returned at all hours, so one, though out of place, V-Wing taking off shouldn’t cause too much attention. That was, until he received a call from control. “Here we go again…” Bodhi sighed as he placed the headset on his head. “Pilot! Who are you? You’re not authorized to take that ship! What’s your call sign?”

“It’s Bodhi Rook, and my call sign is still Rogue One. And you can tell General Draven I’m joining Captain Andor. Sorry about your ship.” Bodhi flipped off all communications as he departed the launch bay.


	6. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi goes after Cassian.

Bodhi took the stolen (borrowed?) V-wing to Castell, careful to land inconspicuous in a central docking bay. Bodhi worked hard to think like Cassian would, evaluating his situation before making decisions. The city was massive, constantly busy, and crowded. After more than 24 hours of endless searching and no sleep, he’d found Cassian, miles from where Bodhi had landed in a heavily occupied and patrolled part of the city, in the captivity of some Storm Troopers. Any pedestrians seemed to be clear of the area, and it was more than apparent some sort of battle had taken place. From Bodhi’s vantage point he could see that Cassian was cuffed and sitting cross-legged on the ground as Strom Troopers loomed over him, blasters at the ready. It was impossible for Bodhi to tell how long Cassian had been there, but the sight of Cassian, dried blood on his face, clothes caked with dirt, had made a lump rise in Bodhi’s throat.

Getting Cassian out of their clutches would take skill and planning, things Bodhi wasn’t used to. His mind played through different scenarios and he tried to resolve each one as a win and a loss. No, he’d get shot. No, Cassian would get shot first. Bodhi was getting frustrated. He half contemplated just rushing the troopers and letting them take him down. He’d feel bad for Jyn, and for Chirrut and Baze, but there wasn’t much hope for Cassian’s situation. What would Cassian do? What would Cassian tell him to do? A disguise? Maybe…yes? It worked on Scarif. If he could stalk the troopers, see if there were any patrolling alone... He was weak, but the sight of Cassian battered and torn pumped enough adrenaline through him to keep him going. He retreated from his lookout, and began carefully surveying the area, trying to look like a citizen that knew what they were doing. He spotted one: a trooper walking by himself through an empty street, and Bodhi knew it was his chance. He would only get one shot to take the trooper out, one shot that had to hit the trooper in precisely the right place on the 2” of armor-less neck, but he had to take it. He crept closer and closer, making sure his movements were subtle and meticulous. Bodhi found a doorway to duck into. The trooper got closer and closer, and put his hand on the trigger and-

The trooper hit the ground in near silence, his hands splayed out in front of him as his lifeless form hit the ground. Bodhi dashed over to the trooper and quickly pulled him into an alcove, striping him of his uniform. Once the TK was undressed, Bodhi stripped off his own clothes and re-dressed the trooper, dumping his satchel beside the body. He’d miss what little belongings he had stashed in there, but most of all his goggles.

Bodhi had been careful to note how he’d taken the armor off as he began dressing himself. The armor wasn’t necessarily complicated, but was time consuming. It was much too big for his body, but he hoped it wouldn’t matter. He knew other troopers had limited vision in their buckets, and with Cassian as a prisoner, he was hoping their eyes would not be on him. He manipulated the fabric on his neck to cover up the fresh blaster hole, and took a deep breath. Bodhi knew he wouldn’t be able to get Cassian out immediately, but he could at least make sure he was with him.

Suddenly, his com sprang to life. “TK-34839, you were expected to report 5 minutes ago. Where are you?”

“On my way. I uh…I had to…take a piss?” Bodhi hoped that would be a suitable enough response. He was thankful the bucket hid his face, which he'd scrunched up as he responded to the trooper.

“Hurry up, we need to transport this prisoner,” the voice responded.

Bodhi breathed a sigh of relief as he began walking. It took some getting used to, but he was able to master walking in the armor by the time he had reached the field of view of the other troopers. Cassian was still sitting, staring blankly in front of him.

“TK-34839 reporting in,” Bodhi tried to say smoothly, as he approached. He was glad he’d accidentally heard his name-well, his trooper’s name. All of the time spent in classes learning basic protocol was a skill Bodhi never knew he’d be thankful for.

“About time,” one of the troopers said, stepping from behind Cassian. “We’re relocating the Rebel spy in half, we should be expecting the transport here soon.”

“Understood,” Bodhi said, taking the place of the trooper who had stepped out. Bodhi was so close to Cassian he could see him breathing. It had been quite a struggle: upon closer inspection, Cassian’s clothes were torn in several spots, and a nasty gash was on his thigh. That explained why Cassian was sitting, though how Cassian had convinced these troopers to grant him a convenience was nothing shy of skill. Bodhi stood still, watching Cassian, waiting for the transport ship to arrive.

The minutes crept on, Bodhi trying to stay poised. And then everything was horribly wrong. It started as one blaster shot, and then they were rushed by a small group of Rebels. Not, not rebels, just rebellious citizens who’d managed to get their hands on blasters. Bodhi quickly fell on top of Cassian, shielding him from the shots, as Cassian squirmed beneath him.

“Get off!” Cassian screamed as Bodhi tried to keep Cassian beneath him.

“No, I’m we’re getting out of here. Now!” Bodhi yelled as he got to his feet and dragged Cassian by the upper arm on to his feet as well. The transport ship was landing in the distance, sending dust flying high around it. Cassian was strong, and was almost free of Bodhi’s grip when Bodhi instinctively put his blaster to Cassian’s temple. “Stop moving. We’re getting out of here,” Bodhi said through gritted teeth. He knew the other troopers could track his com, and he knew their best bet was taking control of the transport ship, but he had to subdue Cassian until then. They struggled ahead, Bodhi constantly prodding Cassian with his blaster.

As Bodhi approached the transport, he almost fell to his knees. It was a cargo ship. They sent a cargo ship! Or was this not the ship intended for Cassian’s transport? Was this just a cargo ship brining supplies to the city to the troops? Bodhi didn’t care. The hatch lowered as they were almost open the ship, and a few troopers stepped out, their steps quickly turning into a jog as they made their way to the city.

“Rebels! Not sure how many! Opened fire,” Bodhi yelled as they caught up with one another.

“Take the prisoner to the ship and wait with him until we get clearance to take off,” one of the troopers replied.

“Roger,” Bodhi replied, dragging Cassian along with him. He realized Cassian must’ve taken note of the ship to, as his steps faltered as he was pushed inside and up the ramp. The ship was empty except for the pilot, who was still sitting in the cockpit, clearly nervous that the prisoner had been brought on board her ship. She was a petite thing, a clearly not long out of the Academy. Cargo ships were put into use every once in a while when they were closer than a transport and the delivery had been picked up or dropped off already, so a prisoner on board was not an entirely strange sight. Bodhi shoved Cassian on to a crate that must have been put into service as a seat for one of the troopers.

“Sit,” he hissed at Cassian. The truth was that he was not in character, but was actually frustrated that Cassian wasn’t being more cooperative. How could he expect him to be? Bodhi vowed to make it up to Cassian. They were so close…

“Pilot, you are to wait outside of the ship. I have been given command of this prisoner, and he is to be put to questioning. In private.” Well, that’s what Cassian had did the last time…sort of…The pilot wouldn’t buy that, it was too absurd-

“Yes, sir!” the pilot squeaked, clearly all too happy to be relieved of this situation. Bodhi felt sorry for the cargo pilot-he knew what a thankless job it was, and he was sorry to be stealing her ship. The pilot took her goggles off and hopped from his chair, shooting fearful glances at Cassian as she ran out the airlock, down the ramp and out the hatch.

Bodhi lowered his blaster.

“What in the name of Jedha City did you think you were doing Cassian Andor?” Bodhi yelled. “You took off without telling a single one of us! Not a single one of us! Not even me! You know how I heard about your mission? Gossip! Gossip from two pilots eating dinner. Gossip, Cassian Andor. How could you think so little of your friends? The next time you go on a suicide mission, at least, just at least tell me first, or else I swear by the Force I will kill you myself Cassian!” There was no masking the rage in Bodhi’s voice, amplified by the bucket he still wore.

A smile spread across Cassian’s face.

“Cargo pilot, you continue to surprise me,” he said, shaking his head.

“You…you knew? That it was me?” Bodhi was astonished.

“Of course I did. You’re too short, they’d never recruit you. That, and the way you were holding the blaster: did they not teach you anything about blasters? Is that why you won’t ever take one? You don’t know how to shoot?”

“I did! I…” Bodhi took off his bucket, looking at the empty shell as he spoke. “I shot the trooper that was wearing…that had this on…”

“Really?” Cassian asked, grinning from ear to ear. “Good. He probably deserved it. Get these cuffs off my wrists, we need to get out of here. We’ll talk about how you got here later.”

“I…yeah, right,” Bodhi responded, stepping behind Cassian and slipping the cuffs off his wrists.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, before that pilot gets back,” Cassian said, hopping into the co-pilot chair. Bodhi paused before tossing the trooper bucket aside, and hoping into the pilot’s chair.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Bodhi asked, hoping Cassian didn’t say the base.

“Off the planet for now. We’ll figure the rest out later.”

Bodhi plotted co-ordinates for the nearest planet he knew. This ship wasn’t equipped with a hyper-drive, and making it back to base would be a long journey.


	7. An easy game

“What trading post did you say this is?” Bodhi asked, as he and Cassian walked down the ramp and onto the dusty ground beneath them, sketchy ships with lurking pilots on all sides. Hastily constructed buildings hovered on either side of the narrow street in front of them, and Bodhi was certain one would topple over any moment. Normally an Imperial cargo shuttle landing at a trading post with two civilians exiting would raise more than an eyebrow, but Cassian was familiar with this spot, even though he hadn’t been here before. He had told Bodhi it was a place all sorts of characters would meet and deal in illegal transactions, and was a spot frequented by Mandalorians. This last fact was a reason that Cassian had told Bodhi they needed to get a ship and get out quick. If there was a bounty on either of their heads, and Cassian knew there was, they were as good as dead.

“Repinstolip Trading Outpost. Come on, I think I know how we can pick up a ship,” Cassian said, leading Bodhi by his elbow. It was difficult for Bodhi not to stare at all the figures around them, but the smells were enough to twist his insides. They moved slowly through the crowd, and Bodhi was suddenly glad he had nothing of value on him. Just Cassian. Growing up on Jedha Bodhi was used to seeing all sorts, but it didn’t stop him from being curious. He heard a wailing in the distance, and his stomach sank as he imagined it to be a child in need.

“This way,” Cassian said, taking Bodhi by the hand.

“I thought you said you’ve never been here before?” Bodhi asked.

“I haven’t. Been once you’ve been to one trading outpost like this, you’ve been to all of them.”

They walked along, stopping several times as they waited for the traffic to clear up. Cassian led him down what almost seemed like a trap street: if Cassian hadn’t pulled him into it, he wouldn’t have seen it. It was a narrow squeeze getting through the buildings that contained the street, but once they were through, the street opened up again. It was much less crowded than the main street, but it was infinitely more dangerous. Cassian squeezed Bodhi’s hand as they walked past a Mandalorian leaning against a building.

“Here,” Cassian said, stopping in front of a curtain draped doorway, pulling Bodhi along behind him.

As they walked through the curtain, Bodhi was instantly hit with a myriad of smells, good and bad. The lighting was dim, and he could see several games of sabaac going on at makeshift tables. No one looked up from their business as they walked further into the room. They made their way across the room to a table where a plump, greasy man sat flanked by an eager looking man and woman who seemed to be exploring far too much of the greasy man than was customary for just a friendly relation. Cassian seemed unfazed, and Bodhi was concealing his uneasiness.

He approached the trio, keeping a firm grip on Bodhi’s hand.

“Best player in the room. Where is he?” Cassian asked confidently. Bodhi wiped his face of any emotion he could: he was terrified this would end in chaos.

The greasy man looked Cassian up and down, then moved his gaze to Bodhi. He sat in silence for a time, then smiled, showing every rotted tooth he had in his mouth.

“Left corner. You’re lucky, she’s just taken that poor kid’s ship and is looking for a mate,” the man said, winking at Cassian.

Cassian said nothing as he led Bodhi to where the man had indicated. In the left corner sat a mousy looking young woman with big hair, pock-marked skin, and shabby clothing. Of all the people in the room, Bodhi would not have picked her to be the best.

“We have collateral,” Cassian said, not even asking to play first. The woman met Cassian’s gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?” she leaned back and crossed her arms.

“Cargo shuttle. Imperial. Still stocked with armor upgrades. Plenty of monetary value for your family.”

Bodhi was stunned. How did he know this woman had a family?

“What’s your wager?” she asked smoothly, but Bodhi could tell she was interested.

“An exchange of ships. We want the one you just won.”

The woman paused, considering the offer.

“Deal,” she said, sticking out her hand for Cassian to shake. But Cassian didn’t let go of Bodhi’s hand, and instead placed it in this woman’s hand for Bodhi to shake. Her grip was firm and Bodhi was only too glad to be released from it.

“Cas-I mean, uh…” he tried to cover up almost saying Cassian’s name, but he couldn’t think of what else to call him. He tabled the name and just continued on. “What are you doing?”

“You’re playing. Sit,” Cassian said, putting his hand on Bodhi’s shoulder and forcing him to sit down. Bodhi wanted to argue, but he wasn’t surprised that Cassian knew he could play. Cassian probably knew every single detail of Bodhi’s life, and yet Bodhi knew nothing about Cassian.

They played for nearly 3 hours, a game of skill and determination, but Bodhi won. The woman seemed unfazed by the loss. Bodhi knew the trade would benefit more than this woman than them, but he was glad the game was over. She sat up from the table and walked towards the exit, leading them out into the street and on to the main road. Cassian and Bodhi struggled to keep up with her as she maneuvered her way through the streets, but she finally came to the place where their soon to be ship was parked, and led them around the corner. She passed Bodhi various key codes, but Bodhi had stopped walking, stunned. He could keep a straight face during sabaac, but when he saw the ship they’d just won, he was positive he was dreaming. It was a U-wing, battle scarred and worn, but a U-Wing nonetheless. “This way,” Cassian said, leading the woman to where their cargo shuttle was parked. But Bodhi didn’t follow. It was a U-wing. Bodhi walked up to the ship, rubbing his hand on the cold metal. “How?” he repeated to no one, as he walked the length of the ship. Cassian returned several minutes later, alone. Bodhi saw him stuff something in his pocket as he walked towards the still stunned Bodhi.

“How?” he asked, now that he had an audience that could respond.

“The man who had been playing before you? He was a Rebel. We had been noticing him slowly losing interest in the fight before I’d left to find Jyn, and while we were recovering from Scarif they told me he’d run off with a ship. I know the ship’s ID numbers. Draven told me.”

“But how did you know? This ship…I mean…how did you know that she’d won it?”

Cassian gave Bodhi a lopsided grin.  


“I didn’t. But I knew she was honest, and I knew anything would be better than us flying around in a stolen Imperial shuttle. Come on, we need to get back,” Cassian said, ushering Bodhi on to the ship. He walked in a daze as he hoped into the ship. The man who’d stolen had clearly been living on it for some time, and Bodhi could see discarded food containers laying haphazardly about. Clothes were hung on various pegs intended for gear.

Cassian began picking through the clutter, and formed a pile in the center of the ship. Bodhi watched for a time and soon took up the same task as Cassian. They were tossing out garbage, keeping any supplies that would be of use. There was a small stash of blasters Cassian seemed to be glad to find. Cassian grabbed a few blasters and hugged them to his chest with one hand as he pushed some of the clutter out the hatch with his other hand.

“We should be able to get some supplies for some of these: we only need a few. Clearly our ‘comrade’ was planning on company.”

Bodhi nodded, and he helped Cassian get the rest of the clutter out of the ship. They pushed it to beside a large trash receptacle, and headed for the crowded streets once more. After a few more hours of trading: trading one thing for two, and so on and so on, they were able to come up with a new set of clothes for Bodhi, some medical supplies, and a bunch of snacks they stuffed into a satchel they’d traded for. They found a place to clean up, and Bodhi was only too glad to take off the rest of the trooper’s under apparel: he felt much more comfortable wearing a pair of khaki pants, a plain shirt, basic boots and a dark olive jacket. Nothing fit perfect, but he didn’t mind.

They made their way back to the ship, hopping back inside. Bodhi grabbed a few snacks to munch as he headed for the cockpit. Cassian didn’t take any snacks, and approached the cockpit, stopping just before his chair. Bodhi turned to look at him, and saw that Cassian was looking down, blushing. This was a look Bodhi had never seen on Cassian. It frenzied his heart.

“You lost your goggles, so I thought you might like these,” Cassian said, producing the goggles the Imperial pilot had left behind on her shuttle before she’d left. Bodhi felt his vision blur as tears welled up in his eyes. He took them from Cassian and turned in his chair to engulf Cassian in a hug, sobbing.

“Th-thank you,” Bodhi managed to say. Cassian just patted his back. Bodhi slowly unwrapped his arms and put the goggles on his head, relief in their familiarity.

“Much better,” Cassian said, smiling. Bodhi grinned so broadly he was sure his cheeks had swallowed his eyes. Cassian hopped up in his chair, and they prepared to head home.


	8. An apple a day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit.

As Bodhi pulled the hyper-drive lever down, the ship lurched into frenzied darkness, a tunnel of passing lights.

“I’m grabbing a snack-would you like something?” Bodhi asked, hopping out of his seat, goggles still perched on his forehead.

“No. I’m going to lie down,” Cassian replied, also hopping down from his seat. Bodhi knew he had to be hungry, but understood that Cassian wanted to rest. He plucked his satchel up and sat down with it in the middle of the floor, rummaging through the supplies they’d managed to take with them, making up a rhyme he spoke to himself about the food they’d brought. He plunged his hand into his bag, feeling around the extra supplies they’d found. His hand returned to the surface of the bag, plopping a few choice snack items on the floor and repeating until he had ceremoniously laid out everything. Bodhi was pretty content with what they had, and he hoped that once Cassian saw his options he’d at least want something before napping.

Cassian had set to work making himself a makeshift bed out of various blankets and clothing, but hadn’t laid down yet: he was sitting with his legs crossed, watching Bodhi. Feeling pressure, like his rummaging was irritating Cassian, he stopped his rhyming as he finally settled on an apple. He slowly placed all of the other snacks in his bag and pushed it to the side. Bodhi drew his knees up to his chest as he began crunching away. Cassian’s eyes were still settled on Bodhi, and he did his best not to notice Cassian, but he felt his cheeks flush. Bodhi was determined not to look at Cassian, setting his gaze at the back wall instead. Why wasn’t Cassian sleeping? And why was he starring? He should at least be eating if he’s not sleeping, and he definitely shouldn’t be staring.

Bodhi crunched away in awkward silence, realizing that his choice in an apple may not have been the best. He was almost finished, but he had gotten so much of the juice on his hand it was starting to run down his mechanical arm. He brought his knees down in front of him, setting the apple on his knee and looking around for a towel to wipe his hand with. But Cassian had started crawling over, and stopped as he reached Bodhi, starring at him intently. Bodhi blinked a few times as Cassian took Bodhi’s hand in his mouth. Without a word he started lapping up the juice on Bodhi’s hand, and drawing on his fingers, sliding each into his mouth. While pleased and moved by this sudden attention, Bodhi furrowed his brow as he tried to match Cassian’s gaze. Cassian’s eyes were closed, and he started a guttural humming as his tongue grazed Bodhi’s palm.

“Cassian, I’m really…I was just…you don’t have to…” Bodhi gulped and felt like his heart was pumping in hyper-drive as he watched Cassian have his way with his hand.

“I hate you,” Cassian said after finishing with Bodhi’s last finger, but not releasing his hand. Cassian’s dark eyes locked on Bodhi’s. “Everything you do, everything you’ve done? I can’t stand being around you.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand what you’re saying Cassian. You hate me? But you’re…right now…and we…that one time, and I thought…” Bodhi felt a lump rise in his throat, as Cassian pulled on Bodhi’s arm, forcing his body to lean closer into Cassian. He felt Cassian’s breath on his face as he searched his eyes for understanding.

“Stop talking. Take me,” Cassian snarled, his face dangerously close to Bodhi’s lips.

“T-take you? Where? Cassian you were the one that got the co-ordinates from base...I don’t-“

Cassian slammed his face into Bodhi’s, hitting his forehead against Bodhi’s goggles. He released Bodhi’s hand and pushed him down, gently but with intensity, sending the apple core rolling. Cassian angled his head to the side, and sucked in a breath as he pushed his tongue into Bodhi’s mouth. Bodhi was all too willing to accept. Cassian straddled Bodhi’s right leg as he began pressing his pelvis against Bodhi, his hands beginning to wander on Bodhi’s chest. Bodhi immediately felt the firmness of Cassian’s imprisoned cock slowly grinding against his hip as he succumbed to Cassian’s advances and began rubbing his hands on Cassian’s back, panting with an awakened desire. His mind was attempting to travel a maze of confusion: Bodhi couldn’t comprehend what Cassian was talking about, but the feel of Cassian against him began erasing his ability to think clearly. He gave up trying. Bodhi was soon a prisoner of his clothing as well.

The pops and hisses of their frenzied kisses echoed in the stillness of the ship as Cassian paused in his grinding, realizing he needed to liberate his comrade. He began working on Bodhi’s belt as Bodhi reached his hand up to work on Cassian’s belt in turn. But Bodhi was still confused. How had they gotten to this? Hadn’t Cassian just declared his hatred of Bodhi? He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t have been. Not when this was happening.

Cassian withdrew his lips and rose to sit on his knees, Bodhi following up with him as they sat knee to knee, thigh to thigh, chest to chest, discarding their belts hastily. They watched each other, as they took off their shirts simultaneously. Bodhi hungered for another kiss and lunged in, but Cassian pulled away, sitting back so that he could take his boots off. Suddenly realizing that he was wearing far too much clothing, Bodhi mimicked Cassian’s actions. This was happening, and it was happening now.

With their boots discarded, they got to their knees and embraced once more, their hands clenching and rubbing whatever expanse of skin they could find. Cassian sucked in air as he kept his mouth on Bodhi’s, but shortly broke their kiss and stood up, offering a hand to help Bodhi stand. As Cassian pulled Bodhi up, he drew him in for a kiss that began exploring not mouths, but skin. Bodhi tensed as he felt teeth suck up skin on his neck. Their hands slowly traced paths down their stomachs simultaneously as their lips and tongues reluctantly departed flesh. They now kept watch with their eyes as their hands began making work of the other’s trousers. Bodhi was first to achieve his goal, and allowed Cassian to place a hand on his shoulder to keep his balance as he slipped his trousers off. Seeing Cassian completely exposed caused Bodhi’s hand to rush and grab Cassian, who groaned in response. Cassian was already a little wet, and Bodhi started stroking him the way Cassian had done him the last time.

“Not yet,” was all Cassian said as he gently pushed Bodhi’s hand away. Isn’t this what Cassian wanted? He’d done everything for Bodhi last time. Shooting Cassian a confused looked, Cassian responded by pulling Bodhi into him, their sweat dripped bare chests slapping together as Cassian managed to finally unzip Bodhi’s trousers. But as he pulled Bodhi’s trousers down, he followed down with them and came to sit on his knees. Bodhi placed one hand on Cassian’s shoulder for balance as Cassian pulled his trousers free of his legs and feet. Cassian took Bodhi’s mechanical hand and tugged on it, pulling Bodhi to his knees as well. Their mouths locked once more, but their hands finally had purpose. At first they worked in tandem, chests and thighs nearly touching as they stroked each other. As their touch intensified, their mouths departed to allow for labored breath and moaning, both of their eyes screwed shut in ecstasy.

Bodhi moaned, not at his cock being stroked, but by how Cassian’s felt in his hand and how perfectly it fit in his fist. Cassian felt so soft, just as Bodhi had known he would. He traced his hand up and down his shaft, feeling how firm he was beneath his grip, and melting at the heat emanating from between his thighs. Bodhi felt his tip burst softly into Cassian’s hand. Cassian stopped, gently pushing Bodhi to sit back on his heels as Cassian mounted Bodhi’s thighs, thighs on top of thighs, as his feet draped out on either side. Bodhi felt Cassian’s sac grazing his inner thighs as Cassian moved. How far were they going? Did it matter? Cassian moaned gently and rocked his hips forward a bit, pressing every part of his crotch into Bodhi.

After a brief moment, Cassian’s sly fingers returned and ran a path down Bodhi’s chest, one by one wrapping around Bodhi’s shaft. Bodhi resumed his own exploration of Cassian, but not quite as eloquently. Cassian pumped Bodhi up and down: slowly, then a little harder. He ran a ring around the bottom in the opposite direction of his shaft as he pumped at the top with his other hand. Bodhi sucked in his breath. He felt Cassian twisting his upper hand over, like he was lathering it up. Cassian abandoned his play as his hands darted away and he dropped his full weight on top of Bodhi’s thighs, releasing a soft moan as he spread his legs out further. Why had he stopped? But Cassian’s moan sent a pulse through Bodhi’s groin, and encouraged by Cassian’s increased panting, he began pumping Cassian with urgency.

Cassian resumed his play once more and Bodhi purred as Cassian brushed his tip, feeling more of himself seep out. Cassian released Bodhi’s cock once again, as Bodhi struggled to keep up a steady rhythm on Cassian. Cassian groaned once more, this time louder, and Bodhi felt Cassian’s tip spurt out a little more wetness. Cassian quickly darted his hand to his own cock, pushing Bodhi’s hands away. He lathered his hand once more and allowed Bodhi to resume touching him, but the lack of focused attention was starting to hurt Bodhi: it had to bothering Cassian, too. Bodhi moved his other hand to himself, beginning to do work on both at the same time while Cassian was absent, but Cassian pushed both of Bodhi’s hands away.

“Soon,” Cassian cooed, as he took up Bodhi’s cock once more. Bodhi let his arms hang limp on top of Cassian’s thighs. Cassian slicked his hand again, pulling it once more behind him. Cassian’s eyes went wide as he slid his knees even further apart, a drawn out moaning escaping his mouth. Bodhi finally realized what Cassian had been doing.

After a few heavy breaths, Cassian rocked himself off of Bodhi’s thighs and sat back on his heels. He slowly laid back, dropping himself down, vertebrae by vertebrae, on top of his makeshift pile of bedding. He spread his legs out, grabbing his thighs from beneath to spread himself further, his knees bent off the ground. Bodhi took in every inch of Cassian’s body as he’d done the first time, only know he didn’t feel embarrassed, and he had time. This bare body was presenting itself to Bodhi, and Bodhi was happy to accept the invitation. Cassian looked at Bodhi pleadingly, sweat making his body glisten and his cock cry in desperation. Bodhi wished he could stare at Cassian like this longer, but he couldn’t ignore what he knew he needed. He slinked forward on his hands and knees, crouching between Cassian’s knees. Bodhi’s hands slowly traced their way from Cassian’s ankles to his shoulders. He placed himself between Cassian and held himself up on his hands as Cassian lifted a leg to wrap around Bodhi’s waist. Cassian nodded, and they both helped guide Bodhi’s cock in, groaning harder as it penetrated Cassian’s rim. Cassian was tight, and he felt Cassian clench up around his cock as he first entered.

Bodhi knew he had to take it slow until Cassian was slick enough to take the friction, so he slid his shaft most of the way in as Cassian slowly relaxed to the penetration. Bodhi moaned once the entirety of his shaft was inside. He let Cassian wiggle himself into position. Bodhi let his fingertips trace Cassian’s jaw, watching as his fingers slowly caressed the face below him. He gently kissed each eyelid. As Bodhi moved his head away, Cassian opened his eyes. He stilled himself and nodded, eyes fierce and his lips in a crooked snarl.

It was a slow in and out, Bodhi not wanting to hurt either one of them until Bodhi had leaked enough and Cassian had finally opened enough to fit the entirety of Bodhi’s cock inside of him. No amount of preparation could have prepared Cassian for Bodhi’s cock. The whole feeling of being inside Cassian made Bodhi grunt with each thrust, the grunts soon morphing into a syncopated moan higher in pitch. After several calculated, delicate and easy rounds, the presence of a wet lapping noise and the ease with which he was now penetrating Cassian indicated to Bodhi he could go deeper and faster. He felt Cassian’s cock between their bodies begin dripping more as Bodhi rocked up and down. Bodhi’s mouth hung open as his moans grew in intensity. Cassian had worked Bodhi’s hair out of his bun and began running his hands through it, panting and grunting as Bodhi pumped. Bodhi slowed his pace so that he could let his mouth close around Cassian’s, but the sudden movement caused Bodhi’s goggles to hit Cassian’s forehead. They both grinned through their kiss as they angled their faces better. Their heavy breathing caused them to wheeze breaths through their noses. Cassian gently tugged on Bodhi’s lip with his teeth, slowly pulling it down until it slipped from his grasp. Satisfied with the sweet respite, Bodhi squeezed his eyes shut as he thrust harder into Cassian.

Cassian twisted a chunk of Bodhi’s hair into a knot with one hand and tugged, as his other hand thumbed and tugged one of Bodhi’s nipples, causing Bodhi to wail at the new place of contact. Their bodies were locked together, Cassian’s slick cock now firmly pressed between them as he pulled on the leg wrapped around Bodhi to eliminate any distance between them. Bodhi’s arms were shaking from the work it took to keep him elevated enough to thrust, but he didn’t care. He felt Cassian shiver beneath him, and Cassian let out a drawn out groan as his jaw quivered open. He erupted between them, and Bodhi felt Cassian’s wrapped leg loosen in tension. Cassian began dancing the tip of his tongue around Bodhi’s mouth, encouraging him on, as he thrust harder into Cassian, both grunting together. He finally came, his body quaking as he screamed Cassian’s name. He felt his wetness burst into Cassian, causing Cassian to whine with pleasure. It took a few moments for Bodhi to calm himself enough to pull out of Cassian.

Bodhi twisted his body to the side, and dreamily lay on top of Cassian. His upper arms were sore from the position they had been made to keep, but if that small bit of pain had resulted in this, he’d gladly endure it. Bodhi tilted his head to rest on Cassian’s shoulder, his goggles pressing into Cassian’s chin and his hair lapping over his shoulders. He felt every bit of liquid they shared between them, sticking to skin and hair. Their breathing began to relax, their pulses returning to normal as their bodies released tension. Bodhi curled both hands up on Cassian’s chest, content to feel Cassian’s heartbeat beneath him. Cassian wrapped Bodhi in his arms, lifting his head off the ground and kissing the top of his head.

 “I hate you, cargo pilot,” Cassian said, emotionless.

Bodhi grinned.


End file.
